


Displays of Affection

by rsadelle



Category: Metallica
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-12-13
Updated: 2000-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lars wants a hug. James doesn't want to give it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Displays of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> A story I told to Nette to make her feel better after a bad day. Thanks to Amatia for the read through and the title.

rsadelle: i'll tell you a story, maybe. what should i tell you a story about?  
Nette: Lars/James!  
rsadelle: okay. but what about lars and james?  
Nette: Hmmm, maybe Lars and James writing one of those sad songs they write together and getting all teary-eyed and Lars hugs James, but James is all awkward and tense...

Lars rocks back. "Jesus fucking Christ, James, I thought we'd gotten over this shit. It's a hug. You put your arms around me and squeeze. It's not fucking rocket science."

James shoves his hands in his pockets. "I know that," he growls.

"So fucking hug me back."

James just shakes his head and twists his way out of Lars' hold. Lars is angry, confused. James has never done this before.

"What the fuck's the matter with you, man? It's just a hug, okay. Writing's fucking hard, and I thought maybe you could use a hug as much as I could."

James slams his fist against the wall. "I don't need a fucking hug."

"Don't be a fucking idiot."

"I'm not an idiot," James growls back at him.

"You are an idiot. Just fucking hug me back. Come on, James, you used to hug me back all the fucking time."

James' jaw clenches. "Fuck off, Lars."

"I won't fuck off. We're in this shit together so just fucking hug me and let's get back to work."

James just scowls at him.

"For fuck's sake, what the hell is your problem?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want to hug you?"

Lars stares at him in wordless shock for an instant before he recovers and yells, "And did it ever occur to you, you stupid fuck, that I hug you because sometimes I need a hug?"

"So go hug Kirk. I'm sure he'd be real happy to hug you back," James sneers.

"Is that your fucking problem? You can't stand that I have a friend other than you now? Well you'd better get used to it. You're not the only person in my life."

"Oh yes, you and Kirk are 'friends' now. Well isn't that fucking perfect? Should I take Jase out for a beer and a manly talk now so that we can all fucking get along?"

"This isn't about the rest of the fucking band, dick. This is about you and me. Okay, so things aren't the same way they used to be when we were just starting out and it was just us against the world, but that doesn't mean we're not friends. I can be friends with Kirk and still need a hug from you."

James growls. "Well you're not going to get one so either shut the fuck up about it or go cry on Kirk's shoulder."

Lars sucks in his breath in sudden, shocked hurt. "That was fucking cold, man."

"And what do you call deserting your best friend for some fucking pimp in eyeliner?" James snaps back, Lars' anger cutting down to his hurt and making it bleed out.

"Is that what you think I did? I didn't fucking desert you. Fuck. You're still my best friend. I'm here writing with you, aren't I?"

"That doesn't mean shit. You'd do anything for the band."

"Is that what you think of me?"

"It's true, isn't it?"

"Fuck, James. This band means everything to me, but do you really think I'd be here pouring out my heart into this song if you weren't important to me too?"

James hunches his shoulders silently.

Lars swears creatively, throwing in as many words from as many different languages as he can think of. "James, you're my best friend. That's not going to change just because I'm friends with Kirk too."

"Are you fucking him?"

Lars stares at him, speechless. "Wha-- Who-- How--" He stumbles for what he wants to say. "What the fuck makes you think it's any of your business?" he settles on.

James scowls. "It's my band. That makes it my business."

Lars scowls right back at him. "It's our band. But this is about my personal life."

"So you're fucking him."

Lars nearly screams in frustration. "It's none of your fucking business. Do I go around asking you if you fuck Jason?"

James scowls at him. "Maybe you should."

Lars stares at him and then laughs shortly. "All right, James, are you fucking Jason?"

"Yes."

"You're fucking Jason?" Lars' voice is shaky.

"I already said yes."

"You're fucking Jason. Jesus fucking Christ. Why?"

James shrugs. "What was I supposed to do? You're off fucking Kirk. It's not like I had a lot of other things to do."

Lars gapes at him. "You go skateboarding or biking or camping if you don't have anything else to do. You don't fuck your bassist."

"Maybe I do."

"Don't be fucking stupid."

"I'm not the one off snorting coke and hanging all over Kirk."

"It's my fucking life."

"And it's our band. How do you think that looks?"

"Who the fuck cares how it looks? We're Metallica. We don't give a shit about anybody. No rules, but Metallica rules, remember?"

James' jaw tightens. "I don't want you doing coke."

"I'll do whatever the hell I want."

James stalks across the room toward Lars. "I don't want you doing coke."

Lars pushes James away from him. "It's not your fucking choice."

James growls and follows Lars around the room. "It is my fucking choice. It's my fucking band. I don't want you doing coke."

"What the fuck is your problem? You don't like me hanging out with Kirk, you don't like what I do. I'm not going to go back to being the same fucking kid I was when we first met."

James crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't fucking want you doing coke. That shit is fucked up and I don't want you involved in that."

Lars glares at him. "And maybe I don't want you fucking Jason, but I don't go around telling you how to live your life."

James stills.

Lars stares at him. "Do you want me to tell you to stop fucking Jason?" he asks shakily.

James stares at him. "I'd stop if you did."

"Stop fucking Jason."

"Okay. I won't fuck him anymore."

"That's it? I tell you to stop and you stop?"

"Yeah. That's it."

"It's nice to know that Jason means so much to you."

James shrugs. "He knows it was just a casual thing."

"What are you going to do now when you're bored?"

James shrugs. "Do something else, I guess."

Lars narrows his eyes. "Gonna fuck your way through the band?"

"Now you're being stupid."

"I think that's a perfectly reasonable thing to ask."

"Well you're hardly going to let me fuck you and I'm not going to fuck Kirk if you're fucking him."

"Nice fucking sense of honor you've got."

"Are we done with this fucking conversation? I said I'd stop fucking Jason and I will. Can we finish the song?"

"No we can't finish the song. What the fuck is up with you?"

James looks at him strangely. "What do you mean what the fuck is up with me? Nothing's up with me."

Lars stares at him as if he's grown an extra head or two. "You decide to fuck Jason because you don't have anything better to do. You won't hug me. You tell me what to do with my life."

"Yeah." James looks at Lars.

Lars shifts under James' gaze. "What? Am I supposed to find some fucking kind of meaning out of that?"

James walks toward Lars again. "Yeah."

Lars warily watches him approach. "James, I don't fucking read minds. I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to get out of this."

James keeps walking forward, pushing Lars back against a wall. "Come on, Lars. You're smart. Hell, you're the smartest guy in this band. You can figure it out."

Lars looks up at James. "James, I don't know what the fuck is going on. Yeah, I can deal with record contracts and business shit, but I don't have a fucking clue what the hell I'm supposed to figure out here. For once in your whole fucking life you're going to have to just tell me."

James bends down and kisses Lars.

Lars freezes in shock, then his mouth works against James' for a moment before he pushes James back. "You stupid fuck. You can't just tell me like a fucking normal person."

James' mouth twists in a wry smile. "I'm not exactly normal." His hand still cups Lars' cheek.

Lars laughs. "No argument there, man." He rubs against James' hand a little. "Fuck. How was I supposed to figure that out?"

James rolls his eyes. "Well, I thought you were the smart one."

Lars pushes him. "I am the smart one, dick."

"Well it took you a fucking long time to get a clue."

"Bastard," Lars mutters. "Are you going to hug me back now?"

James laughs and puts his arms around Lars. He squeezes tight. "There. I hugged you back. Are you happy now? Now can we go back to the song?"

"Yeah, okay, let's finish this song."


End file.
